


love god herself

by peachyteabuck



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Inspired by Beyoncé Knowles, Lapdance, Song: Don't Hurt Yourself (Beyoncé), Truth or Dare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 07:11:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16849504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachyteabuck/pseuds/peachyteabuck
Summary: truth or dare lap dance





	love god herself

Bucky had been off Wakandan ice long enough to not be too scared to socialize, but he still mostly kept to Steve, Natasha, and Clint. Occasionally, he found he way up to Sam’s area if the bird’s ego was getting a little too big for his britches. **  
**

He was planning to spend the night alone, in his room, doing what he does best: ignoring the fact that the rest of the world existed.

His best friend, though, had a different agenda.

“Bucky,” Steve pleaded. “Please join us, I’ll be there…and you can leave when you want to! Please. Being around everyone when we’re not on a mission would be great. Tony’s pretty nice when he’s not barking orders…”

Bucky sighed. Why would he want to be around anyone right now, especially when it was everyone at once.

Eventually, he gave in. Seeing Steve’s excited face is worth the extremely uncomfortable churning in his stomach.

Later that night, Steve escorted him to the common room, where everyone was already on their second or third drink. You were there, laughing at something Wanda was talking about.

He didn’t know much about you, just what Steve had told him, what he could observe in meetings, and what he noticed when he found himself in Banner and Stark’s shared lab.

He knew you were in the Navy and had a few PhDs. Tony ended up finding you, buying you out after an impressive track record during your military service and an obvious itch to change careers.

(Government salaries are about as unimpressive as the work they had you doing, so it wasn’t that hard.)

He also knew you loved pizza, really wanted a cat, and had a tattoo on your butt.

So, not much.

The most important thing he knew, though, was that he had a gigantic crush on you. Like, Empire State Building or Statue of Liberty sized.

He had made it painfully obvious, both because he was constantly flushed around you; always stammering through his words and tripping over stuff, and because Natasha figured it out and told you about it.

Since then, everyone in the compound (including FRIDAY) had been desperately trying to get you two together. Included in this master plan was tonight, which hopefully included enough contact between you two to make him crack.

It had been over six months since he had met you, and still the only things he said to you were “hi,” “good, how are you?” and anything strictly related to the health and mobility of his metal arm.

You had tried to make it as obvious as possible that you liked him, but to no avail. You even started getting notices from HR about the length of the skirts you were wearing, but to no avail.

“Hey Bucky!” you called out to him, beckoning him over to the couch you were sitting at. You even patted next to you to show how much room you had reserved for him, but he still followed Steve like a lost puppy to some loveseats across the room.

Sam snorted a little into his drink, to which you and Wanda both glared at him for. Don’t, the look told him. Don’t you fucking dare.

As the night started to lull, Tony stood up and clapped his hands together. When all of your heads were finally facing him, he smiled wickedly.

“I propose,” he says, his usual regal stance forcing his shoulders back and head up high. “That we all play a game…” he gestures for everyone to beat their hands against their thighs or a table in order to build up the anticipation via drumroll. “of good old truth or dare.”

Everyone, including you, groaned.

Truth or dare had been a game you’d been playing since middle school. Therefore, it could get old fast.

But your fast-approaching boredom meant that you all tried to make the game as weird as possible in order to make up for it. By weird, you either meant sexual or just fucking crazy.

The good news is, this particular game went sexual, because the last time it went weird Tony ended up asking you if you still had both kidneys when you picked “truth” and Bruce told you to spit into a cup when you picked “dare.” He then rushed it upstairs (where the lab was located) to “preserve it.”

You still have no idea what it was used for and always shiver at the thought.

“Steve,” Natasha asks, taking another sip of beer. “Truth or dare?’

Steve answered quickly. “Truth.”

“Pussy,” Tony mumbled. He seems to get the most out of this game every time you play it.

“What was is like to jerk off during the war?”

Steve laughs a little, greatful it wasn’t that bad. He was sort of expecting to have to strip, or give someone a blow job, or whatever Natasha’s dirty mind could come up with. “Dirty and gross.”

Bucky smiles in silent agreement. He may not remember much, but he definitely remembers attempting to keep his masterbation sessions secret while literal Nazis attempted to kill them day and night.

“Alright, my turn,” Tony says. He seems bored, fidgety. He hasn’t seen one breast yet and it’s bugging the shit out of him. Tony’s always willing to take things to the next level, which makes the games more intense - and more often than not - more dangerous.

“Actually,” Natasha gestures to you, “I think it’s her’s.”

Tony rolls his eyes dramatically and groans. It makes you giggle, how juvenile he’s being. “Alright, newbie. Truth or dare?”

You think for a moment. You’re tired just sitting on the chair, you want to move around. “Dare,” you say with confidence.

Tony narrows his eyes and taps his chin. Oh, you’re in for it. You squeeze the drink in your hands in anticipation.

“I dare you to give Bucky a lapdance.”

You immediately laugh. Your specialty while doing government work was being undercover, and a lot of internationally-wanted criminals like strippers. A lot. Almost a scary amount. Like, y’all can’t agree on international law but you can agree that a

Because of this, you’ve given a lot of lapdances, stripteases, et cetera in your day. Tony, being the one who recruited you, knows this, and has been determined to see your skills in play.

You stroll over to the sound system, trying to find a song that will fit the kind of mood you’re in.

When you find it, you turn back to Bucky, who’s sitting on the couch.

“Go grab a chair from the kitchen table,” you tell him. Giving a lap dance on a couch? No thank you.

You wait for him to get situated. As you do so, all eyes are on you. You inhale deeply, trying to center yourself. You haven’t done this in a little while, lap dances are much more intimate and scary than pole dancing.  But, truly, how hard can it be to give a hot guy, who’ve you’ve had a crush on since you became an Avenger a lap dance? A man you knew also had a crush on you? Probably not very.

You start the music, and you snap your hips to the beat. It pushes you forward, towards Bucky. The vocalizations give you a chance to turn and dip in front of him, showing off your control and flexibility.

You’re the water, the waves, coming crashing down on him.

_Who the fuck do you think I is_

_You ain’t married to no average bitch boy_

_You can watch my fat ass twist boy_

_As I bounce to the next dick boy_

Bucky’s eyes don’t know where to look. Your eyes or your lips, legs or breasts, legs or between them. It’s too much for him, but in a perfect way.

_And keep your money, I’ve got my own_

_Keep a bigger smile on my face, being alone_

_Bad motherfucker, God complex_

_Motivate your ass call me Malcolm X_

You snap up, pulling your knees to your chest and flipping your hair up. As it hits the side of your face, you turn to face Bucky, sticking the tip of your finger in your mouth and biting it.

_Yo operator, or innovator_

_Fuck you hater, you can’t recreate her no_

_You’ll never recreate her no, hero_

You slide up his body, resting between his open legs. You put your hands on his shoulders, moving your hips with the music again. God, you missed this.

_We just got to let it be_

_Let it be, let it be, let it be baby_

_You just got to let it be_

_Let it be, let it be, let it be_

You turn around, balancing your hands on his knees. The jeans give you a better grip, so you grab onto them, digging your nails into his muscled lower thighs. You bend down a little, allowing your ass to grind against his dick.

He tries to grab it, but no. You’re untouchable in this moment, both literally and figuratively. You turn to face him, then you deciding to swing one leg up to give you a better angle. You grind to the tune of the music, it’s biting tune giving you the power to keep going harder than you ever have.

_I am the dragon breathing fire_

_Beautiful mane I’m the lion_

_Beautiful man I know you’re lying_

_I am not broken, I’m not crying, I’m not crying_

You move to the ground, your work out/sleep/don’t-feel-like-getting-dressed shorts show off your legs, your tank top shows off the rest of your body.

You spread your legs into a split, with you resting on your tailbone. You shake your legs joining your legs together. With heels, it would make a clack sound, but now it’s just a soft slap of skin on skin.

_You ain’t trying hard enough_

_You ain’t loving hard enough_

_You don’t love me deep enough_

_We not reaching peaks enough_

_Blindly in love, I fucks with you_

_‘Til I realize, I’m just too much for you_

_I’m just too much for you_

You get up on your knees, grinding into the ground. It’s on beat, the way your pelvis hits the floor and then cycles backup an imaginary cock

_You just got to let it be_

_Let it be, let it be, let it be baby_

With the next verse, you shoot up. Grinding into Bucky’s actual cock now, hip movements still in time with the song.

_Hey baby, who the fuck do you think I am?_

_I smell that fragrance on your Louis Knit boy_

_Just give my fat ass a big kiss boy_

_Tonight I’m fucking up all your shit boy_

You take the time to look around you, your eyes making it to everyone. They’re all staring at you, every single pair of eyes is watching you intensely. You have to admit, you feel good. You feel sexy. Not like the normal sexy, but really really fucking sexy. Sometimes, you had people who find out you used to strip (whether or not they knew it was because of you being a government-hired covert operative work depended on the person), they often ask you if it was “empowering.”

“Uh, no,” You’d always reply. “It’s my job.” You found it no more empowering than when you babysat for your neighbors as a teenager. But this? Oh, this is empowering. Knowing everyone in the room, taken or not, finds you sexy? And you knowing you have that hold over all of them? That’s empowering.

When you finish (or, more accurately, when the song finishes), you walk away and rush to pause the song before it repeats. That, surely, would ruin the mood more than you snapping out of character.

After that, you blop back down at your spot on the couch, taking a sip of your hard lemonade. The slurping sound is the only thing  that reverberates through the blanket of silence that’s fallen over the room.

Bucky struggles to readjust himself in the chair. It could be because he’s uncomfortable, maybe he’s still got his hard-on from before. Either way, it gives you a little self-confidence boost. C’mon, you just gave a lap dance to the Winter Soldier! Arguably the sexiest and thickest Avenger! Who wouldn’t dream of that!

You look around, trying not to smile too much.

Sam’s mouth hangs open, Wanda remains completely still with her eyes wide.

“Fuck,” Clint mumbles.

“That was…” Bruce starts to say.

“Hot as fuck,” Natasha finishes.

Bucky’s staring at you intensely, hungrily. He looks like he’s about to eat you, and it makes heat pool between your legs. If you weren’t already soaked, you could be sure you were now.

Steve coughs, sipping his drink. “It was…uh…who’s turn was it next?”

The quiet in the room, the sexy, sexy silence sends a surge of adrenaline through your veins. If Bucky isn’t going to crack now, you have no idea what would make him finally ask you out.


End file.
